Читать книгу I Want It Now - Sydney Molare - Страница 10

We started out early the next morning. We had a five-hour drive before we reached my—or rather, our home. Dubois snored quietly as I navigated through the rush-hour traffic. I was not surprised. Neither of us could sleep last night. We talked—and lightly stroked—long into the night. I glanced over at his strong profile, still shocked at how this whole adventure seemed to be working out so well. I took the quiet time to reflect on how I got from there to here, conventional and conservative to unconventional and running with the wild mustangs.

It all began quite innocently: the latest blind date gone wrong and my determination not to be the sad sister everyone was trying to “hook up”…for the umpteenth time. For some reason, once I’d reached a certain level of success, I was unable to find suitable counterparts to date. It was like I had a sign on my forehead: SHE’S TOO RICH AND INDEPENDENT FOR YOU, MAN! And those not reading it and having the courage to ask me out should have. I tell you, if another man invited me to dinner and we pulled up to another buffet—Chinese, Japanese, Ryan’s or its counterparts—I would have screamed.

And my God! What’s up with the men with poor manners: letting me help myself into cars, walking in front of me, letting me open my own doors, and the casual ease with which they asked me for sex? Like sex was as meaningless as grabbing a glass of water. Not me. I wanted sex to be the mind-numbing, commitment-driven act I always felt it was intended to be between partners.

So when I spotted this small ad in a women’s magazine, it piqued my curiosity. It said simply, WANT THE MAN IN YOUR DREAMS? CONTACT US. 150-555-4398. I dialed the number, thinking it was probably a gag. But it was no gag. The representative was courteous and quite knowledgeable about the entire process. I gleaned as much information as possible, then visited their Web site.

Their site provided much more information. Each potential husband spoke at least three languages, was in perfect health, and had received “advanced training” in husbandship. I wasn’t sure what the husbandship training included, but I figured it was a class in understanding a wife and his marital obligations and expectations better.

I viewed the photos of available men, read their profiles and biographies, then narrowed my search down to three prospects, kind of like the Match.com stuff I see on television, only with me completely in control of the selections.

I’d spoken at length to each contender before settling on Dubois. There was something in his voice that scratched at my soul, made me want to know him much better. Further conversations cemented this feeling and so, after much meditation, I filled out the contract and selected Dubois as my mate. I was hoping and praying I’d made the correct choice.

“Second thoughts?”

Dubois’s question startled me because of the similar thoughts I was having about him. “Not really. You?”

“Definitely not.” He smiled before continuing. “Honestly, I’d heard horror stories about things that could go wrong.”

“Like what?”

“A person looking like Halle Berry on their photo actually looked more like a Harold Berry in person.”

I had to laugh at the visual that popped in my mind. “That definitely could be a problem.”

“You are telling me. How does one make love to a man-looking woman?”

“The same way someone makes love to a woman-looking man?” We both laughed. “Well, rest assured, someone probably is doing it right now.”

“Perhaps. I imagine there is someone for everyone…I just don’t think…let’s just say, she would have gotten a refund with me on sight. I’d be back on the Bravado right now, thankful I got away alive.”

I loved how “politically correct” he was. “Gotcha.”

“So, your job…do you enjoy what you do?”

I was an anthropologist at the university and loved what I did. Yes, I visited exotic places for weeks on end, but it was the student interaction, the passage of my knowledge to the un-knowledgeable that drove my engine. “I sure do. There is nothing more rewarding than sharing knowledge.”

“Really? Explain, please.”

I broke it down. “When students come into my classroom, they are, for the most part, a blank slate that I have the wonderful job of filling in with my words, their assignments, and taking them to the field. And if I do a good job, their slate becomes crowded with knowledge, historical facts that still apply to our lives today, and thus, allows them to place themselves in context to the world as it evolved.”

“You help them find themselves by showing them how similar and dissimilar they are to those who have come before.”

“Correct!” It was so refreshing to find someone actually understanding my ideologies on the first conversation. “The meek become proud, the boastful become humble, because the realization finally dawns that there truly is nothing new under the sun. It’s just new to them.”

Dubois rubbed his hands together like a kid. “You’ve got me excited, that is for sure!”

“Oh, keep hanging with me. I’ve got a lot more excitement to come out.” We broke into laughter.

We only stopped once to stretch our legs, grab some gas and food. I wasn’t surprised to see Dubois surrounded by three animated women when I exited the bathroom. He was a sight to behold. When I advanced, the conversation I heard seemed innocent…but I knew women and went on guard anyway. But when he took my arm and introduced me to the women as his wife—earning pointed looks all around—I relaxed and smiled. They might not have been innocent in their motives, but Dubois surely was.

I pulled into the driveway just after lunch. My home was an old antebellum house I’d rescued from the foreclosure block and restored in a mixture of old charm and modern amenities. It was huge by today’s standards, but I loved it and hoped Dubois would also.

His eyes grew large as I slowed in the circle drive. “This is home?”

“Yes. You like?”

He nodded. “It reminds me of the stately manor houses at home.” He turned to look at the pasture just across the road where the cattle grazed freely. “Yes, it definitely reminds me of home.”

“Really? I thought Extania was pretty urban.”

“Some areas are. It’s a small island, for sure. But where I lived wasn’t very…urban.” He turned back to me. “After we unload, would it be all right to walk into the pasture?”

I didn’t know much about cows and definitely didn’t know if there was a mean bull present, but I swallowed my own apprehension down and said, “Of course. This is your home, so I think you should get to know it.”

“Great!”

I unlocked the trunk and Dubois grabbed all our bags in his hands and gestured for me to precede him. I took my time walking up the walkway with the pampas grass sprouting around it. I liked the look but I was well aware there could be unwanted “visitors” lurking there also.

Dubois sat the bags down in the foyer and stared up the winding staircase. “Wow. This is truly magnificent.”

I clapped my hands in glee. “Glad you like it.”

“And you did all this restoration…by yourself?”

I couldn’t take all the credit. “Well, actually, I came up with the ideas, then hired contractors to do the actual work.”

“They did a great job.”

“Let me show you the rest of the house.” I enjoyed the slow tour throughout the house, pointing out extra touches here and there I thought were unique. I paused when we reached the upstairs master/mistress suite. Taking a deep breath, I said, “These are our rooms.”

Dubois took in the blue-green décor I’d used in the room in silence. When his eyes rested on the iron king-sized bed, he smiled appreciatively. “Nice.” He pulled me into his arms and added, “Nice, indeed,” before covering my lips with his. He released me just as I was starting to feel giddy. “I think we’ll have a lot of good times in this room.”

“Um,” was all I could manage to eke out. I stepped back from all the maleness that was seeping into my pores and shook my head to clear it. “Hey, let me show you one of my favorite spots in the house.”

“There is such a thing as a favorite place besides the bedroom?” His eyebrow quirked in amusement.

“For me, there is. Come along.” I pulled him behind me as we navigated back down the stairwell and out onto the patio. Here I’d installed a hot tub with those wonderful shooting jets. I’d had more than my share of orgasms thanks to those jets. “This…is my favorite spot.”

Dubois turned in a circle, taking in the hot tub, the gazebo and pergola, and the mini–botanical garden I’d been tinkering around with. “Are you the green thumb?”

“Yes. It’s a hobby of mine.” I walked him around spouting off the names of the different flowers and shrubbery I’d planted around the koi pond. The sun glinted off the exotic fishes’ iridescent scales.

“You did a great job here.”

“Thanks.” Appreciation never sounded so good. “Hey, why don’t you go…explore…and I’ll get started on dinner.”

“If that’s all right with you. By the way, how close are our neighbors?”

“The nearest one is a half a mile in that direction.” I pointed to the west. “On this side, the closest would be around a mile.” I waved to the east.

“So who owns the pasture across the road?”

“I’m not sure. I think it’s the family on this side.” I pointed to the west again.

“Do you have a bicycle?”

Of course, it was his normal mode of transportation. I chastised myself for not thinking of buying one. “No. But we can get you one tomorrow.”

A big smile broke out on his face. “Great. I guess walking will have to do today.”

Suddenly, I heard the front door open and close. I frowned, wondering who it could be.

“Hey, Dina! You here?” My eyes widened. “Yeah, her car is out front, so she’s around here somewhere,” I heard her say before footsteps were clomping across the ceramic tile.

“Expecting company?” Dubois asked beside me. I was mute as a body walked into view, cell phone plastered to her ear.

Sleek black hair, black-rimmed eyes, a halter top that dipped down to there and shorts that rose up to here—my lifetime nemesis, aka Stacy, my younger sister. Brown eyes widened as they took in me and Dubois. “Let me call you back, Mom.” She clicked her phone off slowly and took a moment to look Dubois from head to toe, licking her lips as she gazed into his eyes. “Damn, girl. Where’d you find him?”

It never ceased to amaze me how someone who had grown up in a small town could become ghettofied at the drop of a piece of lint. Today she was definitely in Ghetto Mode. “Hello to you too, Stacy.”

Her eyes shifted to me, “Oh, my bad,” then back to Dubois. “Hell-o.” She held out her hand. “I’m Stacy, Dina’s younger, single sister.” If her meaning wasn’t made obvious by emphasizing her words, the way she thrust out her high breasts and let a leg extend a bit in front of her sure made it clear.

Dubois took the offered hand and pulled it to his lips. I felt a tinge of greenness swimming in my blood as Stacy showed every one of her braces-perfect teeth in appreciation. “It is my pleasure to make your acquaintance, Miss Stacy.”

“Oooh. Talks pretty, too.” She gave me a look of shared conspiracy that I didn’t return. “I think you and I will be getting much, much better acquainted, as you say.”

Dubois flashed her a megawatt smile. “I would think so.” Stacy gave me a look I’d seen many times before. “I’m Dubois. Dina’s new husband.”

I would have happily paid a month’s salary to have a photo of the changed look on Stacy’s face at that announcement. Priceless, indeed.